


the chaos of stars

by nirav



Series: side streets [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 01:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8825356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nirav/pseuds/nirav
Summary: in which alex is a fully grown and highly paid adult who still commutes on a hipster trash bicycle, lucy wants to save the world, and tourists cause problems as they are wont to do.[aka, the epilogue that nobody asked for]





	

_I didn’t fall in love with you._

_I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way._

_I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway._

_And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you._

(the chaos of stars - kiersten white)

* * *

 

It’s a Friday, thank God, and Lucy has had a terrible week but a good Friday, so she sends her staff (“staff”, she likes to call them, like how even five years into her great plan to save the world she has anything more than just one junior attorney, a retired military psychiatrist, and a 22 year old admin working with her) home at exactly 5:00 and follows them out the door.

She’s hardly ever home before eight.  Alex’s birthday is on Sunday, though, and Lucy has an extensive weekend of zero productivity and zero pants planned, so saving the world one piece of military policy at a time can wait until Monday.

Alex’s bike is hanging from the rack when she gets in, still swinging minutely from where it must have been settled on the hooks just minutes earlier, and Lucy stills it with one hand as she walks by.  

Lucy steps through the door from the garage and almost falls immediately, her shoe sliding on the jacket laying on the tile floor.  She mutters a curse and catches her balance, glaring at the jacket and then along the floor to where there’s a cycling hat near the entrance to the hallway.  She follows the trail, the next piece a shoe, and then another one, and then some socks and a tshirt and a bra.

In the bathroom, Alex is standing with her back to Lucy, shirt off and elbow raised towards the mirror.

“I come home early for once and my reward is nearly breaking my neck on the disaster trail you left in your wake,” Lucy says, leaning against the doorway.  She licks her lips at the sight of Alex’s bare back.  “You know I like the view, but do you think you could maybe _not_ leave your clothes all over the house?”

“Yeah, well,” Alex mumbles.  “I didn’t think you’d be home yet.”

“What, did I get here before you could hide your piece on the side?”

Alex grunts out something, not turning around, and Lucy rolls her eyes, moving into the bathroom and pressing against Alex’s back.  Her hands curl around Alex’s hips habitually, but Alex winces, sucking in a sharp breath.

“What-- oh my God,” Lucy half-shouts, catching sight in the mirror of the scrape covering half of Alex’s upper arm, the fresh bruises forming on the right side of her chest and all the way down along her ribcage and disappearing into her jeans.  “What happened?”

“Slight mishap,” Alex says with a grunt.  “It’s just a scrape--”

“Alex!” Lucy snaps, gently manhandling her around.  “Jesus Christ, what did this?”

“Dipshit tourist going the wrong way down a one way street,” Alex says.  She clamps down on Lucy’s wrist when Lucy presses gently on the bruises along her ribcage.  “I swerved, they swerved the same way, I got clipped with the mirror.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lucy mutters.  “Your ribs might be broken, we have to--”

“I’m okay,” Alex says.  “They’re bruised, nothing is broken, I just-- need to shower.”  

Lucy picks up her arm, lifting it carefully and letting out a low whistle at the scrape that reaches up from Alex’s elbow towards her shoulder.  

“How did you even land like this?”

“Talent?”

Lucy rolls her eyes and pokes at the road rash, pulling a groan out of Alex.  “Alright, hot stuff, let’s clean this.”  She jerks her head towards the shower.  

“I can--”

“Nope.”

“But--”

“No.”

“Lucy, come on--”

“Alexandra Elizabeth Danvers,” Lucy says sharply.  “Several things are going to happen right now.  One: you’re going to be quiet.  Two: you’re going to get in that shower.  Three: I’m going to get in that shower with you and clean this mess up.  Four: I’m boiling your arm in hydrogen peroxide.  And five: we’re buying you a goddamned helmet and you’re going to fucking wear it.”

“Okay,” Alex mumbles.  She slumps against the counter, letting Lucy unbutton her jeans and work them carefully down past her hips.  

“At least you didn’t skid,” Lucy says.  The bruising spreads down towards her knee, but the scrapes are mercifully limited to her arm.  She traces her fingers along the edges of the bruising, sighing heavily and looking up at Alex.  “Can’t you just take cycle classes or ride on bike paths away from cars?  Like a normal person?”

“Can we not talk about this now?”

“What, you mean when you’re injured and in pain because you got _hit by a car_?”  Lucy pulls her shirt off, blowing her hair out of her face, and glares at Alex.  She points to the shower.  “Go.”

“I didn’t get hit by a car,” Alex grumbles as she starts the shower.  “That’s melodramatic.”  

“Tell that to your ribs and the fact that you can’t even lift your arm all the way,” Lucy says.  She steps around Alex into the shower and starts the water, cursing quietly at the cold before it warms up.  Alex steps gingerly into the shower, leaning on Lucy’s shoulder, and stares apprehensively at the water.

“Just get it over with,” Lucy says.  “Like ripping off a bandaid.”  She moves around Alex to stand behind her, propelling her gently under the water.  Alex curses loudly when the water hits the ripped skin on her arm, reaching back and gripping at Lucy’s waist, fingernails digging into her skin.

After Alex’s grip has lessened, Lucy presses a kiss to the back of her head and hops out of the shower, returning momentarily with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a washcloth.  She pulls Alex out from under the water, and Alex groans, dropping her head onto Lucy’s shoulder.

“If you bite me, I’m gonna be very unhappy with you,” Lucy informs her.  “Do you want me to count to three first?”

“Yes,” Alex mumbles.

“Okay,” Lucy says.  “On the count of one--” She pours hydrogen peroxide on Alex’s arm, holding tight around Alex’s waist to steady her when she lets out a yell and flinches away from the peroxide.

“Fuck, Lucy,” Alex grinds out.

“You tense up,” Lucy says.  “Just-- hold still, okay?”  She dabs carefully at the injury with the washcloth, gently washing away the dirt and flecks of gravel.  Alex leans her forehead down against Lucy’s shoulder once more, slumping against her.

“Done,” Lucy says after a long silence.  Her hands settle around Alex’s waist gently.  “Can you stop hogging all the hot water now?”

“I’m injured,” Alex says into her collarbone.  “I get the hot water.”

“Nice try.”  Lucy turns them around, sighing when the hot water hits her back.  Alex stands miserably in front of her, injured arm cradled at her side, and Lucy sighs.  

“Come on,” she says.  “Let’s get you cleaned up and then get you some advil and a drink.”

“Okay,” Alex mumbles.

“You know,” Lucy says, moving Alex back under the water and reaching for the shampoo.  “When you get mopey and cute it’s hard to remember that you have a PhD and run a huge research lab.”

“I’m not _mopey_ ,” Alex says halfheartedly.  Lucy raises an eyebrow as she massages shampoo into Alex’s hair.

“Sure, dear, of course you aren’t.”

“I hate you,” Alex mutters.

“Sure, dear, of course you do.”

* * *

 

Later, once Alex’s arm is bandaged and she’s stretched out in bed, once they’ve had dinner and broken out a bottle of scotch for dessert, Lucy sits sprawled at Alex’s side and pokes periodically at her bruised ribs.

“At least you managed to protect the tattoos,” she says.  “I would’ve had to leave you if the tattoos were ruined by road rash.”

“You would not,” Alex grunts out, wincing and draining the rest of her whiskey.  She steals Lucy’s half-full glass with her uninjured hand.  

“I would,” Lucy says with a heavy sigh.  “I’ve never admitted this before, but I’m only this for your hot body.  That’s a package deal that includes your hipster nerd tattoos.  If you damage the goods, I’m out.”

“And here I thought you were just with me for my money,” Alex says, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, that too, trust me,” Lucy says.  She grins widely and reclaims her glass from Alex.  “But that was only about a 70% certainty when we first started dating.  The hot factor was a 100% certainty at that point in time and continues to hold strong.  The fact that you actually wound up making approximately a drillion dollars a year for being a science geek is just a bonus.”

“You’re not allowed to be mean to me when I’m injured,” Alex mutters.

“Put it in the prenup,” Lucy says with a wink.

Alex chokes on her whiskey momentarily.  “Prenup?”

“What?”

“You want to get married?”

“Oh,” Lucy says.   The grin fades from her face, and she clears her throat loudly.  “Shit.”

“That is really not a comforting reaction.”

“No, no, not-- that’s not what I meant,” Lucy says quickly.  “I just-- _fuck_ , I was going to do this on your birthday, I had a plan--”

“Wait,” Alex interrupts.  “You had a plan for what now?  You said years ago you didn’t want to get married--”

“Fuck,” Lucy mutters.  She drains the rest of her whiskey and settles the glass on the bedside table.  “Just-- one sec.”  She hops off the bed and jogs out of the room.

“Hey, what are you--”

“Keep your pants on, woman,” Lucy shouts from the stairwell.  

“Jerk,” Alex mumble into her whiskey, leaning back into the pillows and cursing at the pain in her ribs.  Lucy reappears, briefcase in hand, and hops back onto the bed.  She steals Alex’s glass and swallows the whiskey in one go, and tosses it back to Alex as she digs into her briefcase.

“Lucy,” Alex says quietly.  “Are you--”

“Shut it, Danvers,” Lucy says, not looking up from her briefcase but pointing sharply at Alex anyways.  “Don’t make me screw this up any more than I already have.”

“But we talked about this and you said you didn’t want to-- we decided--”

“Shush!”  Lucy extracts a folder from her briefcase and discards the rest, ignoring the papers that fall off the bed and scatter on the bedroom floor.  

“I--”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Lucy says.  She blows a loose strand of hair out of her face and glares at Alex.  “You are _terrible_ at this.”  

Alex glares right back, pointedly silent, and huffs out a sigh, the weight of it all undermined by the wince when her ribs protest.  

“Look, okay,” Lucy says.  She picks at the edges of the folder.  “Like I said, I was going to do this on your  birthday, I was going to make dinner and do the whole romance thing and it was going to be...well, something other than sitting in bed in pajamas because you got yourself run over by a _car_ today.”

“I didn’t--”

“Nuh uh,” Lucy says, pointing at Alex again.  “Be quiet.”

“Rude,” “Alex grumbles into her whiskey glass.

“Anyways,” Lucy says loudly, ignoring her.  “Point is, I know we discussed the whole marriage thing ages ago, and I know I wasn’t into the idea.  I still think marriage is kinda dumb, even though the tax breaks are pretty great.  But I also know that I _do_ intend to spend the rest of my life with you, and that I love you, and yeah ,part of me is tired of justifying that to people who think it’s less real without a ring, but mostly I just-- I love you, even though you do dumb shit and get hit by cars, and I know you don’t look at marriage the same way that I do and that it does mean something to you, and I don’t think I have anything to prove to you about how I feel about you but I want to do it anyways, so--”  

She cuts her own ramble off and shoves the folder into Alex’s hands.  Alex nearly drops it, one hand occupied with whiskey and the other injured, but she catches it in her lap anyways and flips it open.  Her eyebrows raise at the small stack of papers in it, topped by an application for a marriage license.

“Lucy,” Alex says quietly.  “You know we don’t have to--”

“I want to,” Lucy says, just as quiet and even more firm.  “I want this with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Lucy says.  Her fingers twist around one another, and she pushes them down into the mattress.  “So what do you say, Doctor Danvers?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re only marrying me for my money--” Alex starts with a grin, and groans when Lucy slaps at her leg.  “Okay, okay, being serious.”

“Well, that’s a first,” Lucy mutters.

“Do you really want a prenup?”

“No, but if we don’t get one your mother will shoot me.”

“She will not,” Alex says, rolling her eyes.  “She likes you now, remember?”

“Barely,” Lucy says.  “She thinks I actually _am_ using you for your money.”

“No she doesn’t,” Alex says.  She sighs when Lucy stares at her pointedly.  “Okay, not entirely.”

“If you want to have that fight with her, then that’s cool, but I’m not doing it.  I’m on her good side now and the last thing I want to do is get on her bad side.”

“You’re not-- oh my God, don’t be so dramatic,” Alex grumbles.  Lucy flops down on her stomach at Alex’s side, arms flailing out but carefully avoiding hitting Alex’s injured ribs, and groans melodramatically, and Alex rolls her eyes and kicks at her calf halfheartedly.  “Okay, next question.”

“What is this, a game show?  Just tell me you’ll marry me, you jerk.”

“Do you want a real wedding?  Like in a church?”

“Oh, God, definitely not,” Lucy says, propping herself up on her elbows.  “Civil wedding and the most excellent drunken revelry of a reception ever.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you know, if you’d actually looked through the whole folder, you would have seen the list of proposed venues for that and suggested vendors to provide the best liquor selection.”

“What if my mom insists on a church wedding?”

“Then I’ll cry and pout and make you tell her no so I don’t have to.  Obviously.”

Alex is quiet, looking down at the papers in her lap and biting absently on her lower lip.  After a moment she slides the file off her lap and stands from the bed, movements slow and pained, and Lucy’s stomach twists around itself.

“Alex,” she starts.  “What are you-- if you don’t want to, it’s fine, I just---”

“Shush,” Alex says with a grunt as she shuffles over to the dresser and pulls one of the drawers open.

“What are you doing--”

“Do you know what shush means?”  She digs through the drawer that holds her collection of hideous cycling jerseys, the ones that Lucy gives her on every birthday in garish colors, and resurfaces momentarily with a box in her hand.

“Alex,” Lucy says again, but she trails off as Alex moves back to the bed.  Lucy rolls over to sit up properly, eyes wide as Alex climbs back onto the bed slowly.  

“You remember when we talked about this last time?” Alex says.  “When you said you weren’t interested in getting married.”

“Yes,” Lucy says slowly.  “Obviously.”

“Well,“ Alex says.  She picks at a thread in the comforter.  “I never took this back after that conversation.”  She offers the box to Lucy, watching and fidgeting as she opens it and stares down at the ring inside it.

“It’s not much,” Alex says.  “I didn’t want something big because we were saving for the house and I wasn’t-- I can get a better one now, if you want.”

“You’ve been keeping this for four years?”

“Maybe?” Alex mumbles.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Lucy says, still staring down at the ring.  “If you wanted to--”

“I didn’t need it,” Alex says.  She fiddles with a loose corner of the bandage on her arm.  “We’re solid, we were solid then, and I didn’t need us to be married to make it matter anymore.”

“What about now?” Lucy says.

“Now we’re still solid,” Alex says, shrugging with her uninjured shoulder.  “And I’m not going anywhere, and you’re not going anywhere.  So we can get married, or we can not get married, but it’s not going to change any of that.”

“You’ve always wanted to get married?  All these years?”

“Yeah, well,” Alex says.  “Have you seen you?  You’re like wicked hot.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Lucy says with a roll of her eyes.  “Seriously, Alex, do you want to do this?”

“I want to do this,” Alex says, quiet and serious.  “Let’s get married.”

“Let’s get married,” Lucy echoes.  She pulls the ring out of the box and holds it up towards the lamp on the bedside table, whistling lowly.  “I can’t believe you could afford this that far back, this thing is awesome.”

“ _Thing_ , she says,” Alex says with a grumble.  “Come here and let me put the stupid diamond-covered _thing_ on your hand, your jerk.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be down on one knee or something?” Lucy pulls her hand back, holding the ring out of Alex’s reach.  “I feel like if you’re going to be putting basically a mark of ownership on my hand, you can at least get down on one knee.”

“That’s cool, I can just wear it instead, if you want--”

“Don’t you dare!” Lucy snaps, wrapping the ring up in both hands and leaping to her feet on the mattress, holding it far above Alex, who groans at being jostled.  “It’s my pretty diamond-covered thing, get your own.”

“I bought it, you know,” Alex says.  “Does that mean you’re going to buy one for me?”

“Absolutely not,” Lucy says, plopping back down to sit at Alex’s side.  “We all know I’m the cute one, I obviously get the cute jewelry.”

“Yes, obviously,’ Alex drawls.  She grabs at Lucy’s shirt, tugging her closer until she’s kneeling over Alex’s lap.  “Lucy Lane, will you marry me?”

“Eh,” Lucy says with a shrug.  “I gotta think about it for at least six weeks before I make any legally binding decisions--”

Alex yanks on her shirt until she can falls forward enough for Alex to kiss.

“Yes, you moron."


End file.
